


gravitation

by iridiumring92



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: First Time, Kyoto to Ezo, M/M, Mentioned Kondou Isami, Mentioned Yamazaki Susumu, Sexual Content, Shimabara, Vignettes, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridiumring92/pseuds/iridiumring92
Summary: "I know what I said before," Saitou finally says.Souji waits."But I don't think we should end this here." Saitou's eyes are open now, but he's not looking at Souji, he's looking at the sky. At the stars. Souji wonders, selfishly, if Saitou thinks the stars are more beautiful, easier to look at, than he is.





	gravitation

**Author's Note:**

> omg hi i just finished playing through hakuouki a little while ago and i can't stop writing things for it... so yeah i'll just leave this here >///<

Shimabara, late night. The other Shinsengumi captains have mostly gone their separate ways, and Okita and Saitou are the only ones left in the room where they’d been eating and drinking. They’re still holding cups of sake, sitting next to one another and convincing each other to drink just a little bit more.

Harada, of course, had left with a woman. Nagakura had complained about that for a while before he’d dragged Toudou and a couple of the others out for more drinks. Okita had watched several women approach Hijikata, but he’d appeared to turn them all down, strange. He’s had enough to drink that he can’t really bring himself to investigate or care, but he takes note in the back of his mind. In any case, Hijikata is gone now, probably back to headquarters to sleep.

“Man, why do you think Hijikata-san came here if he wasn’t even going to go with them?” Okita asks idly, not really expecting an answer from Saitou, who’s been sitting there in silence for the last measurable eternity. “He didn’t really drink that much, either. Do you think he was really just trying to chaperone everyone?”

Saitou is looking at him, something that Okita doesn’t realize for a couple of heartbeats. He turns and finds Saitou’s eyes on him, probing gently. Okita doesn’t know what that look means.

“He might’ve had something on his mind and just wanted to leave the compounds,” Saitou says.

“Is that what you’re doing?” Okita asks. “Are you just going to go back and sleep, too, Hajime-kun? Leave me alone here?”

“No,” Saitou says, but he stays silent for a while and doesn’t elaborate, and Okita cocks his head. He wishes he knew what the hell was going on in Saitou’s mind. Especially now.

But he hears Saitou take in a breath, and in the next heartbeat—even faster than Okita can process, probably because Saitou is an incredibly skilled warrior and Okita is slightly drunk—Saitou’s mouth is planted firmly on his. His lips are gentle, soft, wet. Okita doesn’t know how to respond for several heartbeats, but Saitou’s lips coax Okita into kissing him back. It feels good, better than he ever expected it to, and he smiles a little into the kiss.

“Hajime-kun,” he says when Saitou surfaces, dark eyes meeting his once again. “If I’d known you wanted to kiss me that much, I might have taken the chance and beaten you to it before now.”

Saitou opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and his cheeks flush a deep red. He glances away from Okita. “It’s not like I wanted to kiss you _ that much_. It’s just—” He stops, eyes fluttering back up to Okita’s slowly. “You wanted to kiss me before now?”

“Mm. Of course I did,” Okita says easily, his eyes flitting up toward the ceiling. “You . . . have a nice face, Hajime-kun.” He glances back at Saitou and sees that Saitou is still blushing, perhaps even harder than he’d been a moment ago. “And . . . the way your hair falls into your eyes like that, it makes me want to just . . .” He reaches out and strokes a couple strands of hair away from Saitou’s face. Saitou watches him as he does, eyes locked on Okita’s.

“Souji.” Saitou’s eyes are completely serious, but his cheeks are still pink, and—oh. There’s something else there, too, something hot and sharp. Affection? Lust? Okita doesn’t have a word for it in that moment. “Can I tell you something?” It’s barely a question. Saitou’s voice doesn’t inflect it like one, and he looks a little afraid of whatever Okita’s response is going to be.

“If you really want to, yeah.” Okita offers him a smile, one that’s only a little teasing. He drapes one of his hands over one of Saitou’s, which brings on another round of blushing and glancing away. He knew Saitou was sort of a man of few words, soft-spoken and all that, but he hadn’t realized Saitou was quite this _ shy_.

“I’ve thought about kissing you . . . a number of times.” Saitou doesn’t look Okita in the eye when he says this, and his voice is low. Eventually, though, his eyes flit back up to Okita’s. “Is that a bad thing?”

Okita pretends to consider. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t blame you, what with this face and all,” he says finally, grinning. Saitou ducks away, hiding his face behind his bangs, and Okita squeezes his hand a little. “Would it make you feel better if I said I want to kiss you again? Like, right now?”

Saitou tips his chin up almost rebelliously, and Okita smirks a little before leaning in.

It’s better than the first. Okita coaxes Saitou into parting his lips, he bites down on his lower lip, he silently enjoys the way Saitou’s muscles go soft under his hands and the sound that he makes when Okita does this. He kisses Saitou until his lips are sore, and even though he half wants to stop and take a break, he can’t bring himself to. He drags a lazy trail of kisses down Saitou’s neck, fingers working at scarf and kimono when they get there.

He manages to pull Saitou’s hair from where it’s bound up, and Saitou stiffens a fraction. Okita doesn’t let this escape his notice. He sits back, his fingers tangling in strands of Saitou’s hair.

“This okay?” Okita asks.

Saitou turns his head, as if easing a cramp out of his neck. “It’s okay,” he says at last. “I’m not used to letting other people see me like this.”

“Hajime-kun, there’s a first time for everything, yeah?” Okita asks. He kisses Saitou’s shoulder, lingering to taste Saitou’s skin.

“Yeah.” Saitou whispers the word back to him after a few heartbeats, fingers dragging slowly through Okita’s hair. Okita sighs at the feeling of it.

“Shit, Hajime-kun. You can do that as much as you goddamn want.” He nips at the skin somewhere between Saitou’s neck and collarbone, and Saitou makes a small noise, one that Okita wants to hear again. He starts to pull at Saitou’s kimono again, but Saitou stops his hands and reaches out. He places one of his hands on Souji’s chest.

Souji looks at him, feeling his lips spread into a smile, and he feels Saitou’s hands peel the fabric away from his skin slowly, fingertips dragging where they’re hooked around the material of his kimono. He lets Saitou’s hands slide over his chest and shoulders and arms, and his eyes finally flutter closed under those ministrations. Once his robe is half off, though, he frees it the rest of the way and pushes Saitou down before he can react, pinning him against the mat.

“How’s it feel?” Souji asks, looking at Saitou again. He’s fucking beautiful, spread out below Souji with his hair unbound and his skin mostly bare. “This good?”

“It’s good,” Saitou reassures him, and when Souji searches his eyes, he finds no trace of a lie. He leans down and presses his mouth firmly against Saitou’s.

They don’t do anything but that for a while, Souji initiating the kisses and Saitou responding—Souji has no complaints with Saitou’s kissing, he must have practiced with someone at some point—though finally, Saitou reaches between them to touch Souji, a move Souji hadn’t been expecting. He should have known. They’ve sparred on so many occasions, he should know Saitou’s ability to read a situation from afar and practically level his opponents with one strike. But for some reason, he’s caught off guard by Saitou’s touch, and he gasps at it, his muscles tightening as he forgets what he’s doing.

“Souji,” Saitou says, gently, “is it . . . okay?”

Souji opens his eyes to look at him, and a smile finds its way to his lips again. “You caught me off guard,” he says. “But I don’t know what else I expected. Yeah, Hajime-kun, it’s okay.”

“Then would you let me—” Saitou pushes at Souji’s chest, and Souji, still recovering from the surprise of his movements, lets him. A moment later, Souji’s the one on the floor, and Saitou is bent down between his thighs, his mouth already moving on Souji.

Souji barely has time to draw in a breath. His hands are in Saitou’s hair, his muscles tensing as he tries to hold himself back from moving at all. “H-_Hajime_—”

Saitou pulls away before Souji can go over the edge, and Souji’s not sure whether he should be grateful to or mad at him. He can barely find his balance to sit back up. When he does, he grabs Saitou’s shoulders, pushing him back down to the floor and crushing his mouth to Saitou’s.

“You tease,” Souji says against the corner of his lips, grinning.

“How was it?” Saitou asks without missing a beat.

Souji’s grin widens. “That’s how I want you to get me off next time, Hajime-kun.” Of course, in response to this, Saitou blushes, and Souji just wants him all the more.

They go back to kissing for a little while, and then Saitou murmurs something about wanting to feel Souji, and he goes straight to taking off his clothes, baring himself to Souji without hesitation. Souji likes this, but he’s also uncertain, touching and then pressing fingers into Saitou, as Saitou directs and encourages him and makes little desperate noises. All of it makes the blood pound in Souji’s ears and . . . well. He’s flushed in other places, too. He’s aching, but he lets Saitou take his time, makes sure he’s not in any sort of pain.

“Souji,” Saitou finally whispers, biting his bottom lip, his brows pinched together just slightly. “Please, can you . . . please.”

Souji nods. His fingers grip Saitou’s legs, his thighs, lean with muscle and slick with sweat, and then his shins, and he leans down to kiss Saitou’s knee. He moves to Saitou’s mouth just after he slips inside him, covering Saitou’s lips with his own to swallow the sounds that Saitou makes.

After that first bout of sensations, Saitou relaxes a little, his breaths gentle in Souji’s ear as Souji moves against him, steady. Souji tastes his skin and sucks marks into his shoulder and neck, lavishing praises on him, while Saitou moans softly and tugs on Souji’s hair. Saitou’s skin is too warm against his, and Souji feels a drop of sweat roll off his nose. He half wonders if anyone will try to come in. If anyone will discover them. It’s less of a concern than getting both himself and Saitou to their conclusion at the moment.

He hears Saitou getting close, his breaths gasping, feels Saitou’s lips on his ear and then his teeth. Souji’s hand finds its way past one of Saitou’s hips, and after a moment of hesitation he strokes. Saitou’s head falls back, his throat exposed, and he moans Souji’s name . . . Hell. It’s all so much. Souji quickens his pace a little. It’s not long later that they both spiral past their release, muscles clenching, making noises that they both try in vain to muffle.

Souji lies on top of him after it’s over. The room is warm, and they’re both hot after all that exertion, but Souji can’t bring himself to move, and Saitou doesn’t try to push him away or say anything. Souji presses languid kisses to his neck. He doesn’t want time to pass outside of this moment, doesn’t ever want to have to leave Saitou. Damn if going back to their baseline isn’t going to be hard after tonight.

The aftershocks wear off a little, and Souji murmurs to Saitou before he pulls away. One of Saitou’s hands lingers on Souji’s hip, keeping him anchored so that he can’t quite detach himself from Saitou quite yet. But that moment doesn’t last, and all at once he lets go and glances away.

“We should get dressed,” he says, abruptly.

“Hajime-kun.” Souji doesn’t know what to make of Saitou’s sudden shift, his retreat back into himself. But despite his calling Saitou’s name, he doesn’t get a response. Saitou retrieves his clothing from the floor and starts to pull it back on. “_Hajime-kun._”

Saitou spins around and looks at him. “What?” he asks, his voice level and his expression unreadable.

“Was this not okay with you?” Souji asks, struggling to keep his voice down. “Did I do something wrong? Will I see you again?”

Saitou sighs, clutches the various garments in his hands to his chest, and steps closer to Souji, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Souji, no matter how we feel, we can’t continue this . . .”

“I beg to differ.” Souji rests a hand on the small of Saitou’s bare back. “Look at us. We’re in the middle of Shimabara and we haven’t even been discovered by Heisuke, or Shinpachi, or anyone.”

“The Shinsengumi headquarters are different.” Saitou’s expression is resolute now, his eyes closed. “There are people around all the time, people we both have close ties to, and they could discover us far more easily there than here. I feel that . . . it could cause complications in our relationship, maybe even sour it.”

“Hajime-kun . . .” Souji presses his lips together. “I know there’s a risk, but doesn’t that just make things more exciting? The stolen moments we could have together . . .”

Saitou doesn’t open his eyes. “Maybe,” he sighs. “But I can’t help worrying about the future, Souji. All of . . . this . . . ending badly would be the last thing I’d want.”

“I hear you,” Souji says. He reaches out and strokes Saitou’s unbound hair, gently. “And yet I want you to come back to me at least once.”

Saitou finally looks back at him, meets Souji’s eyes straight-on. “Yes,” he says, and leans in to kiss Souji again.

They don’t say anything more.

* * *

It’s late again, and Souji is outside the bathhouse, staring up at the tranquil starry sky. He’s been watching the moon rise to its highest perch, and yet he hasn’t seen a trace of Saitou. He feels like he’s been waiting for hours, even though he knows that can’t be the case.

He hears footsteps in the grass and feels his heart quicken its pace. He puts a hand on his katana, just in case.

A figure emerges from the darkness. But it’s not an intruder, not an enemy. It’s Saitou. Souji lets out a long breath of relief and lets his hand slip from the hilt of his sword at the sight of him in his scarf and with his hair tied up.

“Thought you forgot about me.” He scratches the back of his neck, hoping not to look too eager. “I’ve been waiting for ages, Hajime-kun.”

“I had to make sure I wasn’t seen,” Saitou says, and when his eyes meet Souji’s, there’s a sparkle of starlight in them, and something else unidentifiable. Souji still hasn’t become fluent in Saitou’s body language. “Is this going to be enough for you, or . . . ?”

“If you’re asking whether I just want to talk,” Souji says, smirking, “then the answer is no.”

“I expected as much.” Saitou’s hands go to his scarf, but Souji steps forward, catching his wrist.

“Hey, hey, we’re outside. We don’t have much cover,” Souji says quietly. “You don’t have to take your clothes off.”

Saitou’s eyes search his, and Souji sees it the moment understanding dawns in them. “You mean . . .”

Souji gives him a small nod. “Unless you don’t want to,” he adds softly.

“If I didn’t want to, Souji, I’d have refused you flat-out,” Saitou says, and in the next second, he’s grabbing the sleeve of Souji’s kimono, pulling him in close. His lips are on Souji’s, gently pressuring until Souji’s tongue probes into his mouth.

Souji pushes him up against the nearest wall and hitches his kimono up to his thighs, letting Saitou wrap his legs around his waist as he lifts him and pushes him back. His lips are eager against Saitou’s as he maneuvers their clothing and his hands and, after a while, pushes past his entrance, thrusting almost gently into him. Saitou tips his head back against the wall, a little sigh escaping him.

Souji starts to move faster, and Saitou moans a little into his mouth, a sound that Souji wishes he could bottle up and keep forever. He opens his mouth and words start to spill out, and once they do, he can’t seem to stop them. “Hajime, shit, you feel so good. _ So _ good. Mm, you’re so tight, I love you like this . . .”

Saitou comes before he does, which surprises the hell out of Souji and gets him to his release that much faster. He keeps biting Saitou’s ear, and Saitou doesn’t say anything about it, just clutches at the back of Souji’s kimono, his breaths hot against Souji’s neck.

They collapse to the ground together after that, no way to clean themselves up except go into the bathhouse, and Saitou mostly stays quiet, his eyes closed and head leaning back against the wall. Souji wants to say something, but everything he comes up with sounds inadequate.

“I know what I said before,” Saitou finally says.

Souji waits.

“But I don’t think we should end this here.” Saitou’s eyes are open now, but he’s not looking at Souji, he’s looking at the sky. At the stars. Souji wonders, selfishly, if Saitou thinks the stars are more beautiful, easier to look at, than he is. “Not only because you just fucked me against a wall . . .”

Souji starts to laugh. He doesn’t mean to, but the sounds just start to fall out of him, probably brought on by the adrenaline rush of their consummation. When he can breathe again, he gives Saitou a conciliatory kiss. “Sorry, Hajime-kun,” he says. “What’s the other reason?”

Saitou makes a sound that’s half sigh and half hum. “I liked it,” he murmurs. “I want to feel you like that again.”

Souji grins. “That’s more like it, Hajime,” he says, dropping the suffix and shifting so that he can kiss Saitou again.

They do decide to go into the bathhouse after a while, since it’s late and they haven’t seen or heard or sensed anyone else around. They can’t help but get lost in each other once they’re there, clothes off again, skin damp. Souji can’t stop touching Saitou’s skin, and Saitou hums and reciprocates, and eventually all of it leads to Souji wrapping a hand around him and stroking, bringing Saitou to his climax a second time. He rests his chin on Souji’s shoulder and makes those small noises, hips jerking against Souji’s hand just slightly.

“Let me return the favor,” he says into Souji’s ear.

“You don’t have to,” Souji breathes, but Saitou draws back and looks at him, sees how aroused he is, and he returns the favor.

“I can’t keep myself away from you,” Souji murmurs, half collapsed against Saitou. He nuzzles Saitou’s neck a little, but Saitou is stiff, one hand locked around Souji’s shoulder. He’s silent.

After several heartbeats, he says, “I can’t stay away from you either, Souji, and it scares the hell out of me.”

“Hajime-kun,” Souji says, half teasing. “I didn’t know anything could scare you.”

“You know . . .” Saitou leans back and runs fingers through his damp, unbound hair. “For a long time, I didn’t, either. And then when I started to think about being with you, I felt more afraid than I’d ever been.”

“Hajime-kun . . .”

“Because when you love something,” Saitou whispers, “or someone, it can destroy you. Even more easily and completely than death. And yet I was powerless in the face of those feelings. . . .”

“You have me, Hajime,” Souji says gently, pulling Saitou to him and stroking his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Saitou clutches at him and takes deep breaths, and Souji holds him as though he doesn’t plan to ever let go.

* * *

The night is sultry, balmy, and Okita is lying on the tatami mat in his room, eyes shut. He can’t sleep, hasn’t been able to for the past couple of hours. Now he’s just holding out for Saitou to finish patrol.

When he finally hears that voice at his door, he breathes a sigh of relief. He lets Saitou know to come in, and a moment later, Saitou is standing in his room. He’s out of uniform, but he’s still wearing his usual clothes and scarf, which strikes Okita as impractical. He props himself up on an elbow and says so.

“Is that a proposition, Souji?” Saitou asks, moving further into the room and taking off his scarf, casting it aside. Souji sits up, grinning, and is swept into Saitou’s arms as Saitou lowers himself to the floor.

Souji tries to pull at Saitou’s kimono, but Saitou pushes him down, shaking his head just slightly. He keeps a hand on Souji’s chest until Souji’s back is on the floor. He deftly undoes the sash around Souji’s waist, running his hands over Souji’s skin as he divests him of clothing. He nudges Souji’s thighs apart and is between them in half a heartbeat.

Souji gasps as he feels Saitou’s mouth on him, whittling away his defenses until there’s nothing left. He bites down on his own hand in an effort to keep quiet. His muscles strain as he fights against the urges he feels. Still, he doesn’t forget that Saitou followed up on what Souji had told him so long before. Something about that makes him feel incredibly euphoric.

He lies back afterward, too far gone to even think of reciprocating, but Saitou crawls up and lies against his chest without asking for a thing. Souji holds him.

“How did patrol go?” Souji asks after a while, his breath stirring Saitou’s hair gently.

“It was all right,” Saitou says. “I spent all of it missing you.”

The admission makes something tighten in Souji’s chest. He takes in a breath, but he can’t think of a damn thing to say to Saitou, and he just holds him tighter.

“Souji . . . ?”

“I’m not—I don’t know how to wield words like Hijikata-san or Kondou-san,” Souji says at last. “I just . . .”

Saitou waits, his cheek pressed against Souji’s skin.

“Don’t ever leave, Hajime-kun, okay?” Souji whispers. “I want to be beside you more than just these nights. . . .”

“Yes,” Saitou murmurs, and stretches up to press a kiss to Souji’s lips.

He doesn’t leave Souji’s room until morning.

* * *

It’s later that Souji begins to feel under the weather and is instructed by Matsumoto-sensei and Hijikata to stay in bed.

He has days to himself to wallow in his self-loathing and weakness. He hates everything about it. He wishes they would just let him pick up his sword again and fight until his lungs and heart and everything else give out.

But on the other hand, he doesn’t want to leave Saitou. The only parts of his days that he can stand are the parts when Saitou comes to visit him, to check up on him. His orders are to keep an eye on Souji, but more often he comes to bestow conversation and touches and kisses. He whispers his hopes that Souji will recover soon.

During the nights, they still sleep together when Saitou can get away. Souji lets Saitou pin him down more often than not, as he’s too exhausted to give rather than take, but all of it feels so goddamn good. He doesn’t know what he would do without Saitou.

But as time passes, Saitou arrives at his door less and less, and Souji worries that being with an invalid has finally become too much for him. That he’s decided to try and let Souji down gently.

He doesn’t really intend on confronting Saitou about it. After all, if the answer is yes, Saitou is going to leave him, he doesn’t want to know, at least not directly. But one night, his spirits are particularly low, and when Saitou comes to see him, he’s snappish, even more than usual.

Saitou kisses him, but Souji barely reciprocates, too angry and sapped of energy to respond in kind. When Saitou pulls at Souji’s robe, Souji smacks his hand away. “Did you only come here to fuck me? You haven’t been here in what feels like weeks, and now you want to take my clothes off?”

Saitou pulls away, wide-eyed. He looks hurt and surprised, and Souji feels immediately bad, sinking back down onto his futon. “Never mind,” he says, pulling the sheets up over his body. “Forget I said anything. I’m going to sleep.”

“Souji,” Saitou says gently, and when Souji doesn’t respond, he keeps talking, his voice low and soft. “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to do anything. I came here because I . . . I wanted to see you regardless.” He pauses as if to give Souji time to respond, but Souji doesn’t. “I know I’ve been absent for several days, and I’m sorry. I wanted to explain to you, if you’ll let me.”

The ache in Souji’s chest deepens, and he looks at Saitou, wordless.

“I know that . . . you’ve been feeling unwell recently. And I wished to know the cause, as well as whether there was a treatment.” Saitou’s expression is calm. “I asked Yamazaki and Hijikata-san, but I found few leads. I’m sorry.”

Souji still doesn’t say anything. He thinks he might have forgotten how to speak. Saitou left him not because he wanted to increase the distance between them, but because he wanted Souji to feel better.

“I thought you wanted to leave me,” Souji says softly. And then, averting his eyes, “I’m sorry, Hajime-kun.”

Saitou puts a hand on Souji’s arm. “It’s all right,” he says in a whisper. “I could’ve been clearer about my intentions.”

“Hajime,” Souji says, cupping Saitou’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hajime.” He continues with the kisses, until Saitou’s arms are around him and Souji can barely take a breath in between. “It’s not your fault,” he finally says when they’re apart long enough to speak.

“Please,” Saitou says, lips whispering against Souji’s ear. “Let me stay by your side as long as it takes.”

Souji nods.

“Yes. Always, yes.”

* * *

They stand together in Ezo, fingers threaded together between them, breaths fogging in the chill air. It’s night, dark and even colder than the morning, but the snow around them is beautiful, the stillness mesmerizing.

Souji’s condition hasn’t improved, but he requested to be reassigned to Ezo along with the rest of the remaining Shinsengumi, and his request was approved. He thinks Matsumoto-sensei might have let him go out of pity. Like this might be Souji’s last wish or something.

But it doesn’t matter, because he’s here and he’s got Saitou, and he can weather whatever storm he needs to that way. Just standing here with Saitou’s hand in his is far more reassuring than lying on his futon in Osaka, wondering if Saitou was even still breathing, wondering if he would live to see Saitou again.

“This war . . .” Saitou begins, his voice barely a whisper. “Some nights I worry it’s going to finish us completely.”

Souji squeezes his hand. “I know,” he says. “With Kondou-san gone, everything’s just . . .” He trails off, and when the thought makes his throat tighten painfully, he changes the subject. “You ever think about letting me have my way with you out here?”

Saitou’s eyebrows go up slightly. “In the _ snow_?” he asks, meeting Souji’s eyes.

“Yep.” Souji grins. “I mean, usually it’s too hot wherever we do it, anyway. They’re always keeping fires going up here in the building. And in the summer . . . Well, you remember.” Souji cocks his head, looks at Saitou a little harder. “Out here it would keep us cool. And it’s nice and quiet and secluded.”

“And we’d freeze our asses off,” Saitou says. Souji thinks he’s dead serious until after he starts laughing and sees Saitou crack a small smile. “I don’t need frostbite, and you don’t need the cold making your lungs worse.”

“C’mon, Hajime,” Souji says, dragging Saitou into a kiss. “Where else are we going to get to be that close? Unless we take up, like, a broom closet, someone might hear us. Or walk in on us.”

“You could also be quieter,” Saitou suggests against Souji’s mouth. His hand finds its way to Souji’s hip, and Souji shivers, definitely not from the cold. “I’ll take you to my room if you’re good.”

“Really, Hajime?” Souji kisses him again. “You’re not worried about me getting you sick?”

“You’ve been sick a while now, Souji,” Saitou says, softly. “And besides, none of us knows if we’re going to live to see the end of the war. So no, I’m not worried.”

“I fucking . . .” Souji begins between kisses. “I love you. . . .”

Saitou stiffens a moment, and Souji remembers again the conversation they had that night in the Shinsengumi headquarters, outside the bathhouse. He knows Saitou is reluctant to give into those feelings or admit them, but he doesn’t want to keep his feelings from Saitou. Mostly for the same reasons that Saitou just mentioned, the reasons he’s not worried about getting sick.

He knows that either this illness or the war is going to kill him. And he doesn’t want to meet his end without telling Saitou how deeply he’s valued.

But in that split second, that half heartbeat, Saitou’s muscles go slack again and he leans into Souji, murmuring against his neck, “I love you too.”

Somehow, Souji never expected that he would feel as if he were achieving a goal, hearing someone say that to him and meaning it with so many emotions in their voice. But hearing it from Saitou, he couldn’t imagine anything that he wants more.

“Let's go inside, yeah?” he says, voice low, smiling slightly into Saitou's hair.

Saitou murmurs agreement, and takes Souji’s hand to pull him toward the building.

**Author's Note:**

> i just started a tumblr side blog [@heart-held-captive](https://heart-held-captive.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi


End file.
